Just the Beginning
by Colonel Fitz
Summary: Aragorn turns 20 and learns of his true lineage, but blaming himself for tearing his family apart by falling in love with his own sister, he runs away. But he and his newfound friend, Legolas, the Prince of Mirkwood, maybe the only ones who can save her.
1. Love and Family

Warnings:

Violence, torture and angst (what were you expecting? fluffy pink bunnies?)…and a little sappiness…but not too much…really!

Disclaimer:

We do not own anything from the Lord of the Rings. We did not make any money from this. I took two sections directly from _The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen_. In the book, it says that Aragorn's mom doesn't die he's 20, but she didn't fit in with the story, so she has died with Arathorn. Also, I made it so that they died when he was a little older (six instead of two).

And I didn't invent Quenya or Sindarin and do not own them.

I also took the songs from various artists.

Trelan and Raniean belong to Cassia and Siobhan. We're just borrowing them…

Spoilers:

Appendixes from LotR and maybe the books and movies.

Notes:  
Flashbacks are in // and in italics. //_Like This._// Parts were written by both of us, so the writing style may change midway through. Elvish is in italics with translations at the end of the section. All Elvish is Sindarin unless otherwise noted. Contact us with suggestions to king. or essex. Be specific. This is still a WIP, meaning its not done, so do not tell me that it's not done; I know that.

Oh, and my knowledge of both Sindarin and Quenya is far from perfect, so if you see any errors, please notify me. Some spellings (accents) are probably a little inconsistent.

* * *

_Perhaps love is like an ocean, _

_Full of conflict, full of pain. _

_Like a fire when it's cold outside, _

_Or thunder when it rains _

_If I should live forever; _

_All my dreams come true, _

_My memories of love _

_Will be of you. _

_And some say love is holding on, _

_Some say letting go. _

_Some say love is everything, _

_Some say they don't know. _

_--John Denver_

Estel crept silently through the forest with his two brothers, Elladan and Elrohir. They were tracking a lone doe, with rich brown fur and a white muzzle. She had deep liquid-amber eyes that almost made Estel feel guilty about having to kill the beautiful creature.

The doe slowly walked into a shady glade and bent her head down to graze on the soft green grass.

Estel motioned to his brothers on the other side of the clearing and caught their eyes. They all knocked arrows in their bows. On a silent count to three, Elladan and Elrohir loosed their arrows. Both the projectiles missed, but caused the doe to bolt…

Straight at Estel.

The young human shot his arrow into the deer's heart at point-blank range, instantly killing her.

"Nice shot!" Elrohir called out, running over to the slain animal.

"Yeah, but I wouldnot have to shoot so often if you two just aimed a little better," Estel replied, smiling faintly.

"Well, remember that time at the archery competition when you almost hit _Ada_?" Elladan joined in, handing an arrow back to his twin.

"But you two put dog rose in my tunic and bent the arrow!" Estel retorted, flushing slightly.

The twins, unable to contain their mirth, burst out laughing, "That was quite a sight: you trying to explain that it was just an 'accident'," Elrohir gasped between the most un-elflike guffaws.

"That stuff _itches_!" Estel muttered indignantly. Then, he too began laughing.

"Let's get to work," Elladan suggested, after everyone had caught their breath.

"I'll get the horses!" shouted Estel over his shoulder, already heading out of the glade and toward their camp. The camp was about half a kilometer away. Once there, he lifted two fingers to his mouth and gave a piercing whistle. After a few seconds, three horses trotted into the camp. A brown mare came up to Estel and whinnied. Estel produced a small piece of apple from his pocket and smiled, as the mare nibbled the treat from his hand.

Estel loaded his brothers' packs onto their horses. He hefted his own pack onto his back and mounted his horse. "_Hilya_," he commanded. He started riding toward the glade in which the deer was slain, and the other two horses obediently followed.

As Estel and the twins dragged the doe toward the gates of Rivendell, their father, Elrond, came out to greet them. "Greetings. Have you driven the orcs out of the Trollshaws?"

"Yes _Adar_, it was no problem; there was only a small band of around a dozen orcs," answered Estel. "We even hunted a deer afterwards."

"_Mae carnen_.Elladan and Elrohir, take it to the kitchens, please," Elrond ordered.

"But what of Estel?" Elladan asked.

"I have something of importance to tell him." Elrond turned to his youngest son. "Come."

Estel and his brothers dismounted nimbly. Elladan and Elrohir carried the deer toward the kitchens. Estel followed Elrond. With a sinking feeling, Estel realized where they were going: Elrond's study. He usually only went there when he was in big trouble.

"_Havo dad_, Estel," Elrond ordered, shutting the door and sitting down across the table from the young man.

Estel slowly complied, seating himself on the large wooden chair.

Elrond began without preamble, "Estel, I feel you are ready for your true lineage. When your father was slain, your mother, fearing for your safety, brought you to my house. You are Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir of Isildur of Gondor."

Estel was glad he had been sitting in a chair. He had always known that Elrond was his adopted father and that his father had been a brave warrior, but the heir of Isildur? That was … impossible. "No, you must be mistaken," he murmured, but deep down, Estel knew it to be the truth.

Elrond smiled slightly, before continuing, "Here is the ring of Barahir," he said, handing Isildur's heir a small silver ring set with a green stone, "the token of our kinship from afar; and here also are the shards of Narsil. With these you may yet do great deeds; for I foretell that the span of your life shall be greater than the measure of Men, unless evil befalls you or you fail the test. But the test will be hard and long. The Scepter of Annuminas I withhold, for you have yet to earn it."

Aragorn slipped the ring over his the second finger of his left hand. It fit perfectly. "Thank you..." the human trailed off. He was no longer sure who his family was.

Elrond saw the young man's confusion. "Estel, remember, what you know now doesnot affect our relationship. I love you, as do your brothers. We will always be your family."

Elrond's insight never ceased to amaze Aragorn. It seemed Elrond could always read him.

Elrond glanced out the window. "The day grows old. You had better go wash up. Someone special is coming for your birthday celebration tomorrow."

"Yes, _Ada_," Aragorn said. He got up and blushed slightly; his clothes were a mess and he had dirt on just about every bit of exposed skin. He left, pondering what he had learned about himself. By the time he was out the door, he had already forgotten about the surprise guest.

Aragorn sat down at the end of the long table. He still couldnot believe that he was Isildur's heir. The feast was grand, with the dear they had caught as the centerpiece.

After the meal, Aragorn went into the woods for a walk and to watch the sunset, for his heart was high within him. He sang the Lay of Luthien, which told of the meeting of Beren, and Luthien in the forest of Neldoreth. Suddenly, it seemed that Luthien walked before him. She was clothed in silver and blue and upon her brow was a circlet of silver and gems.

For a while, Aragorn just gazed on in silence, afraid she would vanish like mists in the wind. Then, he cried as Beren had, "Tinuviel! Tinuviel!"

The maiden turned to him and smiled, and she said, "Who are you? And why do you call me by that name?"

He answered, "Because I believed you to be indeed Luthien Tinuviel, of whom I was singing. But if you are not she, then you walk in her likeness."

"So many have said, " she answered gravely. "Yet her name is not mine. Though maybe my doom will be not unlike hers. But who are you?"

"Estel I was called," he said; "but I am Aragorn, Arathorn's son, Isildur's Heir, Lord of the Dunedain." He had felt proud of his heritage, but as these words left his mouth, they seemed nothing compare to the fair maiden's beauty and dignity.

But she laughed merrily and said: "Then we are akin from afar. For I am Arwen Elrond's daughter, and am named also Undomiel."

"Often it is seen," said Aragorn, "that in dangerous days men hide their chief treasure. Yet I marvel at Elrond and … your brothers." He had been about to say 'my brothers', but Elladan and Elrohir were more her brothers than his. "For though I have dwelt in this house from childhood, I have heard no word of you. How comes it that we have never met before? Surely your father has not kept you locked in his hoard?"

"No," she said, and looked up at the Mountains that rose in the east. "I have dwelt for a time in the land of my mother's kin, in far Lothlórien. I have but lately returned to visit my father again. It has been many years since I walked in Imladris."

Then Aragorn wondered, for she had seemed of no greater age than he, who had lived yet no more than a score of years in Middle-earth. But Arwen looked in his eyes and said: "Do not wonder! For the children of Elrond have the life of the Eldar."

Aragorn was abashed, for he saw the elven-light in her eyes and the wisdom of many days, but he knew that from then on, he would love her forever.

Aragorn and Arwen walked through the forest step in step. Aragorn was content to just listen to the sound of her voice, like the murmur of wind through the trees, or the singing of birds in the springtime. They recounted stories of their childhood and reveled each other's company.

After a while, Aragorn notice that the moon was high. "We should be returning," he murmured, not sounding very worried.

"Indeed," Arwen agreed, equally nonchalant.

As they journeyed home, Aragorn realized he was in love with an elf.

"My sister, where did you learn to ride?" Elrohir asked, after losing to Arwen for the third time. "I doubt Lady Galadriel rides that way."

Arwen smiled enigmatically. Then she said, "I wish Trin were here. He actually gives something of a challenge."

"Trin still hasnot gotten over the fact that you didnot marry him," Elrohir joked. Actually, Trinnyn had gotten over it years ago, but it was still a running joke between Arwen and her brothers.

"Trin fell in love with you?" Aragorn asked incredulously, not being able to stop himself.

"Well, you know little children are all the same. You be nice to them when everyone else is teasing them, and they think you're in love," Arwen explained, matter-of-factly.

"He followed her around like a puppy dog for years before he finally realized she wasnot going to marry him," Elrohir added.

"Plus, how can anyone not fall in love with you?" Elladan asked his sister with a wry grin. He turned to Aragorn. "Right, Estel?"

"Well, I…um…er…right," Aragorn muttered, blushing. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

For a few moments, an awkward silence hung over the four.

"Did I say something wrong?" Elladan asked, looking very confused.

"Race you back to the house!" Arwen shouted, galloping back toward Imladris, effectively changing the topic.

"Hey! That's not fair! You got a head start!" Elrohir exclaimed, racing after his sister.

The matter was dropped … for the moment.

Aragorn approached Arwen hesitantly. The elf was packing the last of her bags onto her horse. Although Aragorn stepped lightly, the elf's sharp ears still picked up the faint sound.

Arwen turned around slowly to face the man. "Is there anything you wanted to tell me?"

"I cannot help it. I simply must know, do you love me?" Aragorn asked, before he could stop himself.

"Estel, my father loves you, my brothers love you, how could I not …" Arwen trailed off when she realized what she was saying.

"So you do love me," the man murmured.

"Estel, I … need time to think about it."

Aragorn leaned over and kissed Arwen. He was relieved to find she didnot resist. In fact, she kissed him back, for what seemed like an eternity. Then, she pulled away from him, looking somewhat embarrassed.

"We really shouldnot have…" she murmured.

Aragorn shrugged slightly.

"Farewell," Arwen called, and walked her horse down toward Rivendell's main gates, leaving.

Aragorn stared after her longingly. Suddenly, his reveries were interrupted by Elrohir and Elladan. "What were you two doing?" the elder twin inquired.

"I … um… well you kiss Arwen, too," Aragorn stammered defensively.

"Not like that. Estel, what is going on between you two?" Elladan demanded.

"I love Arwen," Aragorn confessed.

"Well, of course, we all love Arwen," Elrohir agreed, clearly not understanding.

"No, you donot understand. I'm _in _love with Arwen," Aragorn explained, he couldnot think of any other way of saying it.

"You have been for a long time, haveyounot?" Elladan accused.

"Yes, ever since I met her," Aragorn admitted.

"But, she is your sister!" Elladan exclaimed.

Aragorn had thought about that before, but they hadnot really been raised together, and hadnot even met before a few days ago. And he definitely didnot think of her only as a sister. "She is not truly my sister."

"Oh. As in we're not truly your brothers anymore?" Elladan asked, hurt making his voice a bit sharper than he intended.

"I am sorry! I did not mean for this to happen. I did not ask to fall in love with Arwen," Aragorn retorted. How could this have all gone so wrong? He turned and strode toward the woods. He needed time to think, too. Alone.

Elladan and Elrohir glanced at each other.

"El, I still understand not. Did our little brother just say that has fallen in love with our sister?" Elrohir couldnot believe this had happened. How could they have been so blind?

"I cannot believe Estel didnot tell us! He has always told us everything. Are we no longer hisbrothers?" Elladan wondered.

"Arwen didnot tell us either," Elrohir remarked. "Why didour little sister not tell us? Plus, we could both tell they were hiding _something_. Why did we not ask?"

"Well, I for one never expected their secret to be something like this."

Arwen packed her few possessions onto Asfaloth, and nimbly mounted her steed. Asfaloth was actually Glorfindel's mare, but he had allowed her to borrow her for her trip back to Lothlórien. Arwen really liked the horse, and thought that Asfaloth probably secretly liked her better than Glorfindel, for Glorfindel was always off doing some heroic deed and somehow always managed to injure his mount. A small half-smile flitted across Arwen's lips as she remembered their most recent escapade. Asfaloth had come galloping through the gate and had halted abruptly as she saw Arwen and had even managed to throw Glorfindel. Glorfindel had of course been furious. Arwen wrenched her mind back to the present and murmured to her horse and they galloped off toward the Golden Wood.

Arwen thought about the recent happenings, seeing her brothers and father again, but mostly meeting her foster brother, Estel. Their situation was nowhere near as simple as Trinnyn's; she had funny a feeling inside, and there was no shaking it off. She wondered what was happening to her and why she had let him kiss her like that.

She already knew that Elrond would be displeased. Now, she could only hope that after staying in the fair forest of Lothlórien for a hundred years or so, she could finally find peace in her heart.

Elrond waited. He had requested that the twins tell Estel to come to his study if they saw him. Knowing his son, Elrond knew Estel would eventually show up. He hadnot bothered to send anyone to look for the young man for ever since he turned sixteen, Estel had been nigh impossible to find if he did not with to be.

Elrond stared out the window, watching the leaves fall. Was always destined to love and lose? His wife had passed into the Undying Lands. His brother, his twin, had chosen a mortal life. Was he to lose Arwen to the same fate?

Elrond also knew that ever since he had been a very small child, Estel had been afraid that he wasnot strong enough. It had been hard for him as a human to fit in among the elves. Estel had always been self-doubting.

Elrond turned toward the door as he sensed a familiar presence. Elrond took a deep breath. This was going to be one of the hardest talks he would ever have. He wished he did not always have to make such difficult, no impossible decisions.

The door opened slowly revealing Estel.

Aragorn sat down, waiting for the elf-lord to say something.

"Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Lord of the Dúnadain, listen to me!" Elrond started, his voice serious.

Aragorn tensed. Elrond did not normally use his full name and title.

Elrond seemed to sense the human's apprehension and softened his tone somewhat. "Estel ... you know I love you. You are a man in your own right now by the standards of your race, and I cannot tell you what to do and what not to do. But I would that you hear me on this. A great doom awaits you, either to rise above the height of all your fathers since the days of Elendil, or to fall into darkness with all that is left of your kin. Many years of trial lie before you. You shall neither have a wife, nor bind any woman to you in troth, until your time comes and you are found worthy of it."

Aragorn felt he could not breathe.

Elrond knew.

Aragorn had always known this would come. He had always wanted his father's love and approval, but he knew that Elrond would eventually have to choose between his adopted child and the children of his blood. He would never regret meeting Arwen, or even falling in love with her, but he hated himself for being human. All that he knew and loved was Elven, and he could never truly be able to be a part of it.

"My brothers have spoken to you?"

Elrond sighed, but favored the young man across from him with a small, sad smile. "No indeed, although I suspected they knew something. They have been all together too quiet since their sister's departure. Aragorn, your own eyes have betrayed you. For I see many things and sometimes can read the hearts of men. But I do not speak of my daughter alone. You shall be betrothed to no man's child as yet. But as for Arwen the Fair, Lady of Imladris and of Lórien, Evenstar of her people, she is of a lineage greater than yours, and she has lived in the world already so long that to her you are but a yearling shoot beside a young birch of many summers." Elrond shook his head slowly.

He continued on relentlessly, as if he thought that if he stopped, he would not be able to start again. "I mean you no shame my son when I say that she is too far above you. And so, I think, it may seem to her as well."

Aragorn noticed that Elrond had looked away slightly and felt as if a part of his heart was getting torn out. Elrond did not even wish to look upon him anymore.

Elrond turned back toward his son. "Even if it were not so, and her heart turned towards you, and she loved you in the same way you, her, I should still be grieved because of the doom that is laid on us."

"What doom is that?" Aragorn asked quietly, willing his voice not to break.

"That so long as I abide here, she shall live with the youth of the Eldar," answered Elrond, "and when I depart, she may go with me, if she so chooses."

Aragorn looked down at his hands. "I see that I have turned my eyes to a treasure no less dear than the treasure of Thingol that Beren once desired," he said quietly, his heart tearing further. Then, suddenly the foresight of his kindred came to him, and he said, "The years of your abiding run short at last, and the choice must soon be laid on your children, to part either with you or Middle-earth. Bitter are the choices that come to us in such times."

"Truly," Elrond's voice was quiet, yet seemed like cold steel, slicing through Aragorn's heart. "Soon as we account it, though many years of men must still pass. But there will be no choice before my beloved Arwen, unless you, Aragorn Arathorn's son, come between us and bring one of us, you or me, to a bitter parting beyond the end of the world. You do not know yet what you desire of me." Elrond sighed and gazed into the distance. After a while, looking gravely back at Aragorn, he said, "The years will bring what they will. We will speak no more of this until many have passed. The days darken, and much evil is to come."

Aragorn blinked. He could feel tears begin to gather in his eyes. Why did everything always have to turn out so wrong? Why did he always ruin everything?

"I am sorry, A–, Master Elrond." Aragorn doubted he still had the right to call Elrond his father. "May I leave now?"

Elrond turned toward the window and nodded slowly.

Aragorn left and closed the door behind him. The sound was hollow, like how he felt inside. He felt so hollow he did not notice the single tear that slid down Elrond's cheek.

Elladan and Elrohir walked quickly down the path toward Estel who was readying the last of his supplies. "Estel wait for us!" Elrohir shouted.

"Not this time, Ro," Aragorn replied. He needed some time alone to sort out his feelings. He hoped his brothers, no, not his brothers, Elladan and Elrohir, would understand.

"Estel, just stay a little longer," Elladan pleaded.

"Elladan, I'm growing up. I cannot have you two constantly looking after me!" Frustration was making him harsher than he meant. "Look, I did not mean it that way. I know you only want me to be safe, but … I just want to be alone this time, okay?" He turned and left down the road without a further word. He was afraid that if he stayed longer, he would just make the situation worse. He always did.

Elladan watched his little brother's receding back, watched until he could see Estel no longer. He wished he could do something, but Estel was not a little child anymore. Elrohir and he could not just bring Estel back and hug him and tell him that they loved him. Finally, he turned to Elrohir. "What can we do? We certainly cannot follow Estel."

"El, I guess all we can do is wait."

Elladan and Elrohir headed back to the house. They walked up the stairs, and Elladan found himself in Estel's room. He noticed something glittering on the pillow. He picked it up and examined in. He felt a lump gather in throat and swallowed hard; it was the ring of Barahir. "I cannot believe he left this," Elladan murmured. "Estel has not taken that off since he learned whom he was. You know, sometimes I wish we had not stumbled upon Estel and Arwen kissing. Then none of this would have happened."

Elvish Translations 

_Ada – _dad

_Hilya – _follow

_Adar – _father

_Mae carnen _– well done

_Havo dad – _sit down


	2. Bitter Regrets

_I feel like you don't want me around. _

_I guess I'll pack all my things, _

_I guess I'll see you around, _

_It's all been bottled up until now _

_As I walk out your door, _

_All I can hear is the sound _

_Of always, always, always, always... _

--Saliva

Aragorn went over the route again in his head. He would cross the Misty Mountains at the pass right behind Rivendell. Then, after traveling north along the western border of Mirkwood, he would cross at the gap between the Misty Mountains and the Grey Mountains, and continue traveling along the Misty Mountains until he reached Carn Dûm. After that, he would travel south until he met up with the Northern Rangers. This plan was of course just an outline with a lot of scouting along the way. A ranger had to know the terrain.

Aragorn sighed. He would never regret meeting Arwen, or even falling in love with her, for that matter, but he did wish he could see his family again. He hated feeling this way, stuck between two worlds. He knew only of elves, yet he was not one of them. He longed to be like his brothers, yet he was not truly as they were. He was a mortal; they were immortal. Aragorn sighed again. Life was not very fair sometimes. Aragorn walked like this for the rest of the day, berating himself, life, fate, and just about anything else he could think of. He made camp in the same manner, still preoccupied by his thoughts. At least he had made a good fifteen leagues.

After a quick meal of some gathered roots, and a strip of dried venison, Aragorn put out the fire and rolled out his bedroll. He had just started to drift asleep when he heard faint grunting and footfalls. He bolted upright with a rush of adrenaline. Orcs! He quickly erased all signs of his ever being there and melted into the trees, watching for the orcs. Orcs had never been this close to Rivendell before.

A horde of orcs passed through the glade that a few minutes back had been Aragorn's camp. One, two, twenty, twenty-five, thirty, forty… Aragorn silently counted. They were heading the same direction as he. After the last of the orcs had passed, he crept out from his hiding place. The grass in the clearing had been trampled by many booted feet. The orcs clearly were not expecting anyone to be looking for them; the pass behind Rivendell was rarely used, after it had become unstable after an earthquake. But how did the orcs know of it? Aragorn decided he would do a little snooping. It did not exactly require him to rely on his excellent tracking abilities, as the orcs had made no effort to hide their trail.

It was almost dawn, when he heard a soft grunt. He whirled around, to see a lone orc running straight at him. It must have gotten separated from the rest of the pack while hunting. The element of surprise lost, the creature gave a shrill cry as it charged. Aragorn watched the orc coming, and at the last minute, he whipped out his sword, impaling the beast. It gave a strangled cry and went limp.

Aragorn removed his sword and wiped the blade distastefully. Orc blood was extremely corrosive; it had to be cleaned off immediately, or it would start pitting the metal. He resheathed his sword and looked around warily. The orcs would have heard the commotion, and discover the corpse, sooner or later. Meanwhile he had better get as far away as possible. He had a nasty feeling that he was about to become the one hunted.

He had just left, when he heard a howl of rage behind him. Why did the unfortunate always seem to happen sooner rather than later? Aragorn sighed for how many times, he had already lost count. This was going to be a long journey.

A faint cry was carried to Grishnak's ears on the wind. He mulled over the noise, wondering if it was some forest animal, but decided that it sounded distinctly orc-like. Also, one of the men in his troop still had not come back. "Go check out that noise!" he bellowed, pointing two orcs, Graghra and Schagh, in the direction he had heard the noise come from. "Rest of you scum, hurry up and pitch camp! The suns coming up!"

As the orcs scurried around looking for a dark place to rest until nightfall, Grishnak eyed his surroundings warily. At one point, he thought he saw a slight movement in the tree, but in the blink of an eye, it was gone. Other than that, everything was peaceful. That is, as peaceful as it could be with a band of orcs around.

They had barely stopped for five minutes before the relative quietness was pierced by a shrill howl of rage.

Looks like they had found something.

Legolas glared at the trees. Actually, he glared at everything in general. Then his expression changed to one of slight regret. He almost could not believe that he had actually done it.

//_Legolas entered the house, leaves and twigs entangled in his long blonde hair. _

_ "Legolas!" Thranduil bellowed. "How dare you come in like this? And we have guests over!" _

_ Behind his father, seated in the great hall, Legolas could see a pair of identical dark-haired elves. One of them smiled slightly and whispered something to the other, causing him to chuckle and nod. _

_ Legolas scowled. "I am tired of your never-ending lessons in etiquette and princely manners. If you had wanted me to dress up, why did not you just tell me earlier, before I left?" Legolas retorted, his voice rising to match his frustration and anger. _

_ Thranduil glared at his son. "Have you forgotten your place? Last time I checked, I was still King, and you were still Prince!" _

_ Legolas and his father glared at each other, seething. Both father and son, in their rage, had become oblivious to the presence of the other two elves in the room, so when one of them spoke, Legolas nearly jumped out of his skin. _

_ "I'm really sorry to interrupt, but I was just wondering if you have seen a human around these parts?" one of them ventured, addressing Legolas. _

_ Legolas shook his head curtly once and turned to leave, but was stopped by his father's voice. "You will learn to be more respectful and proper!" _

"Sire, I am done! I am leaving!" Legolas shouted. He pivoted and stormed out the front door.//

Legolas looked at the forest around him. He had actually run away. He was standing there, debating whether or not to return home when he noticed some tracks. Orc tracks. He'd never hunted alone, Raniean or Trelan had always accompanied him, as was proper of a prince, but how difficult could hunting orc be? He was soon to learn that it could be extremely difficult indeed.

Grishnak wondered at how odd luck could be. They had been tracking someone, probably on foot, since there were not many tracks, but instead, waiting by the road, they had found a pretty little elf-maid on horseback.

//_The orcs lay in ambush along the road. A lone rider slowly approached, unaware of the impending disaster. She had dark hair and was unarmed. She hummed a merry little tune as she rode. _

_When she reached the middle of the pass, and the middle of the ambush, her horse suddenly stopped, its nostrils flaring. The she-elf whispered something to it in Elvish. _

_ Seeing that their cover was about to be blown, Grishnak stepped out from behind the rocks and cracked a whip right in front of the horses nose. The horse spooked, rearing and throwing its rider. The rider fell with a cry of surprise, and then pain as she landed at an odd angle and her leg snapped with an audible crack._//

So catching her had not been that hard, but maybe their dear silently slaying friend would come to rescue the maiden in distress. Grishnak had a feeling he was the heroic type.

_Run, run, flee! Sounds everywhere! Orcs, whips, flee! Flee! Flee! Fly! Run! Smell of evil! Sounds, shapes, scary! Hurts, scratches, bruises, run! Fly, fly, fly! _Asfaloth was terrified. She reared and bolted, running toward the forest she spotted in the distance and perceived as safety.

Aragorn lay in the shadows right outside the orc-camp. Most of the orcs were sleeping in the heat of day. Then he noticed another figure lying crumpled in the clearing. She had dark hair, a tattered dress, and appeared unconscious.

She stirred, waking a few of the surrounding orcs. Their voices were carried to Aragorn on the wind.

"Look! Little elfy's waking up!"

Elf? She lifted her head, and for an instant, Aragorn could clearly see her face. It was Arwen!

He threw all caution to the wind, his rage driving him into a rampage. With a wild cry, he drew his sword and charged into the clearing. He fought like a man possessed, not noticing the wounds he was receiving. All he could think of was Arwen, his love.

The orcs scattered at first, surprised by the sudden attack, but after realizing there was only one attacker, began to close in, surrounding the lone human.

Legolas' Elven ears picked up the sound of battle. He followed the commotion until he reached a clearing. He could see a single man in Ranger garb surrounded by a mass of orcs. Legolas idly wondered why humans were always so stupid.

Legolas strung his bow and began picking off the orcs. Thinking an Elven regiment had come, the orcs fled, leaving the human alone in the glade. The human searched that clearing for something, and not finding it, sighed, and all vigor seemed to leave him. Then he strode across the clearing to where Legolas stood.

"_Hannon le_."

Legolas' eyes widened slightly in surprise. The human spoke Sindarin nearly flawlessly. "Who are you?" Legolas asked.

The man sighed again. "I have many names, but you may call me Estel."

And he had an Elven name. Remembering the two dark-haired elves, he added, "I believe someone, or two someones rather, are searching for you."

"Were they twins?"

Legolas nodded.

"Elladan and Elrohir. I told them not to follow me." Remembering something, the human asked, "Did you see an elf here? A female?"

Legolas shook his head.

"They must have smuggled her out during the melee." The man looked crestfallen.

"Who was she?" Legolas was feeling quite confused. He'd never met a human who knew this many elves, not that he'd met many humans. Plus, were not Elladan and Elrohir the sons of Elrond? How did this human know them? And why were they following him?

"Arwen," he answered. His voice was full of bitter anguish and regret. "The cursed spawn of Mordor have Arwen!"

"Arwen, the daughter of Elrond?" This man sure had a lot of ties to the elf-lord of Imladris.

The human nodded. "Well, who are you?"

"Legolas."

"Prince of Mirkwood?" the human asked.

"Yes," Legolas said, rolling his eyes. Then he noticed the human was wounded. "You're hurt!"

"Oh, yeah," the human answered vaguely. His eyes suddenly rolled back into his head and collapsed bonelessly to the ground, unconscious.

Legolas sighed. _Foolish human. _

Grishnak fumed. They had let a lone human slip from their grasp, after he had already been surrounded. Orcs were idiots! And it had been easy to see from the frequency of the arrows that there had only been one elf. _Anyhow, they will both soon be mine_.

By chance, when he glanced towards his captive, she stirred and looked around confusedly. Grishnak smiled. "She wakes." The orcs aroused and rushed pell-mell at their victim. Grishnak waited, there was no use to intervene; brute force could drastically lower an elf's strong fortitude.

Half an hour passed and the elf began looking faint. "Stop," he ordered. She could not pass out now; his fun with her was just about to begin.

"Elfy will not scream. What do we do now?" a stupid orc asked.

"Bring me a branding iron, it is my turn now." Grishnak grinned. Seeing the elf cringe, he chuckled. He strode over and almost gently touched her bruised cheek, causing her flinch. He smirked and ran a finger along a particularly deep gash on her back. She gasped sharply. _This will do nicely. _

"Dear elf, do you like games?" Without waiting for her answer, he continued, "Well I hope you do, because I am going to play a lot of games with you," Grishnak taunted. The orcs jeered when the elf recoiled and struggled against her bonds. He stroked her wound again and added, "We cannot have you bleeding to death, can we?"

He pressed the glowing brand onto her gash, cauterizing the wound. The elf screamed, arching her back and writhing weakly. "I am very good healer, see? Are you in need of more of my services?" The elf shook her head helplessly, tears streaming down her cheeks, her breath coming in ragged sobs.

"No? Do not worry; I am very generous in my services. I am sure a little more healing will make you feel much better." True to his word, another wound was soon also cauterized.

Arwen writhed in agony. The burning pain in her back was unbearable, and it seemed that her captor was not about to stop. She truly feared this orc; he was too intelligent and played cruel games with not only her body, but also her mind. Hope for escape completely died inside her.

Suddenly fresh pain shot through her side, the branding iron was pressed against cut in her side. She screamed, her flesh contorted and burned, and on it, was the mark of the eye. She found that she could not stop screaming. Grishnak smirked and whispered in her ear, "Beg, Elfy, and I may just end your pain."

She whimpered as the brand was removed. Everything inside her rebelled against the idea of begging from the orc, but the pain, it obliterated everything. Anything was acceptable to escape the pain.

She hesitated, then whispered brokenly, "Please stop…I…I beg you…" She wept, shame-faced.

"Louder," he commanded, snickering.

"Please…I beg you…stop!" Never again would she be able to hold up her head. She had begged an orc!

"As you wish, my dear princess," he agreed. Arwen felt a hard object connect with her skull and her world spiraled into darkness.

Elrond could see an elf being tormented amidst a mob of orcs. He could hear her cries of distress and pain as she was forced to suffer pain he would not have wished upon his worst enemies. As he got closer, he could see that the elf was his beloved daughter, and his breath hitched as he heard he soft pleas for mercy. As an orc bashed her over the head, he found himself sitting suddenly upright in bed, shouting. "No! Arwen!"

Elrond tried to calm his breathing; after all, it had just been a bad dream. Or had it? His foresight was especially strong and often he saw events that had already transpired, or would in the future. Elrond could only hope it was the latter, and that he would be able to stop it before it happened. He quickly scribbled a note to his sons, who were off in the realm of the wood-elves of Mirkwood, and called to him a messenger.

"What biddings have you for me, _hir-nîn_?" the messenger, Camthalion, asked, somewhat sleepily.

"My apologies for waking you in such an awkward hour, but I fear that some ill fate has befallen Lady Arwen. You must make, with all haste, for the realm of Thranduil, and deliver to my sons this letter. You have my blessings and eternal gratitude. Now please, go!" Elrond ordered, handing him the message. After Camthalion had left, Elrond stepped out onto his balcony and sat down on the bench. Celebrían and he had spent many evenings together here, simply gazing at the stars. Elrond often thought about his wife, her eyes, her hair, he smile. He missed her so much. He hoped that he would not lose Arwen as well. He had nearly faded after she had left, and he doubted he would survive if he lost Arwen. He looked up at Eärendil, the brightest star in the sky and his father, and pondered the recent happenings until he eventually fell into an uneasy slumber.

Aragorn woke up feeling very sore. "_Ada_?" he inquired, softly.

"No, Aragorn, it is I, Legolas."

Aragorn cracked open an eyelid. "How do you know my name?" he inquired. He was sure had not told the elf.

"You talked a lot, while you were feverish," the elf answered, by way of explanation.

"Ah." Aragorn understood that one of this wounds must have gotten infected. The last thing he remembered was passing out in the glade. The rest had just been flashes. "How long have I been out?"

"About two days."

"Two days? Arwen!" Aragorn bolted upright, instantly regretting it, as his stitches pulled. He grimaced. He spotted his satchel across the…wooden platform. They were in a tree! He hated being up in trees; he had a nasty tendency to fall out of them. Oh well, he could complain later. Motioning across their makeshift dwelling, he said, "Hand me my satchel, please."

Legolas brought it over and watched as he pulled out a small packet of herbs. He chewed some and pressed the paste onto a wound on his thigh. "Athelas," he explained.

"Ah. Are you always getting injured?" Legolas asked, only half-jokingly.

Aragorn raised his eyebrows. He put on his best look of righteous insult, then put on a straight face and answered in his most serious voice, "Nay, only when I am in the company of prissy elves."

Now it was Legolas' turn to protest. "Prissy elf indeed. At least I am not a clumsy human," he added, giving the human a friendly shove.

Aragorn laughed, and then grimaced as his injuries were jarred. Seeing Legolas' concerned expression, he quickly tried to hide his pain. "We must make all haste in finding Lady Arwen," he said, changing the subject.

"Fine. But first, we stay here until you've rested a little. We cannot have you falling over every other step."

Legolas really did remind Aragorn of his brothers.

Legolas watched Aragorn until he was asleep. Legolas had never seen himself befriending a human, but Aragorn was not so bad. Legolas could understand why Elladan and Elrohir were worried for their little brother. The young human was a more than a little rash.

Legolas sighed as he thought about his family. He loved and respected his father, but Thranduil was always so strict and formal. He had not always been that way, but he had been changed by Elvéwen's murder at the hands of cruel humans. For that reason, his father would never approve of his befriending Aragorn.

But Legolas knew that his father would be worried about him. He needed a way to reassure his father without going back to Mirkwood. Then it came to him: he could write a letter and drop it off at the next village they passed. If they did not pass any villages, well then Legolas could worry about that when it happened. He pulled a scrap of parchment out of his pocket, found a feather, wet some charcoal and began.

My Father and King,

I would like you to know that I am safe. I am sorry if you are concerned by my absence, but I am in dire need of a break from courtly manners. I will return as soon as I am able. Know that I am thinking of you and that I love you always.

Your Son,

Legolas

P.S. Tell Elladan and Elrohir that I have found their brother, and that he is safe and currently traveling with me.

Legolas read over his letter. It was more a note, than a letter, but it contained everything that he need to say. He tucked that parchment into his boot for safekeeping and drifted off into the realm of sleep.

Elladan and Elrohir had just packed all their bags onto their horses and were about to leave when they spotted a lone horse galloping towards them. A riderless horse. It stopped right in front of them and whinnied in distress. Elladan's heart missed a beat when he recognized the animal. It was Asfaloth, Glorfindel's beautiful white mare, whom Arwen had borrowed for the trip back to Lorien. Elladan glanced at his twin, and noticed that Elrohir had come to the same conclusion.

"We must find Arwen," Elladan, murmured. "There were orcs in the area." Elladan's chest tightened as he thought about their mother. Celebrían had been captured on her way back to Lothlórien, and tormented by orcs. Soon after, she had passed into the undying lands. Elladan and Elrohir still missed her terribly. They did not wish the same fate to befall their little sister.

"We will find her, and slay every orc in our path, if need be," Elrohir promised.

"How do you propose to do that?" a tall blonde elf asked, stepping out from the shadows. Elladan recognized him as Raniean, a captain of the Mirkwood elves.

Elrohir looked at him. "We are fully capable of taking care of ourselves," he said, frostily.

"If you have a better idea, we're willing to hear it," Elladan added.

"As a matter of fact, I do," Raniean answered. "I accompany you. With a party of warriors."

"And what would compel you to do that?" Elrohir asked. The Silvan elves had not been very helpful thus far.

"I have a friend who disappeared, well, ran away, a while ago, very much like your own brother. We need to find him. He has a tendency to find himself in very…interesting positions. In fact, also very like your own brother."

"Well, then by all means, lets go find them."

"I do need to get my men first," Raniean reminded them. "We will meet back here in an hour."

"Agreed," Elladan approved, sealing the pact with a firm clasp of the hand. "We'll meet back here in an hour, and bring them back."

"Look, the she-elf wakes!" Five orcs leered in Arwen's face, cackling with maniacal glee. On raised a rough wooden club and began slamming it violently against her already bloody and burned back. The others began raining blows and kicks on her unprotected body. Arwen flinched and smothered a cry of pain. _I will not give in again! _

The orcs soon got bored of simply delivering blows, so they suspended her from a crossbar across the top of the cavern and clamped her ankles to the floor. Arwen hung there, painfully stretched out, awaiting some new orc game. _Ada, please do not see me this way. _

An orc leaped at her, causing her to flinch and try to get away, but her chains held her back and her broken leg ached intolerably. The orc grinned maliciously and bared its teeth; his hand reached out and grabbed her right arm. The orc suddenly jerked its arm back and there was a loud crack. Arwen could not hold back her cry of pain this time, and she screamed breathlessly; her arm was broken. Another of the vile creatures picked up a multi-thonged whip and struck out at her back, until it was welted and bleeding nearly freely again. Arwen hung her head, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Beg, Elfy, or this will be in your gut," threatened an orc, brandishing a ragged orc-blade. Arwen slumped and cursed herself as she complied, "Stop, I…I beg you, no more…" _I am begging like a whipped cur…to orcs…again…_

"Of course!" The orc immediately bashed her on the head and the world went black.

"Aragorn! _Daro!__No dhínen!_" Legolas hissed, wrestling the human back into the shadows.

"But…" Aragorn began to protest, but was cut off by the elf's hand over his mouth.

"Aragorn, you must remain silent and hidden," Legolas murmured. "If we get captured or killed, what good are we to Arwen?" Legolas could sympathize with the human; if Raniean or Trelan, or one of his other good friends was a captive of orcs, he knew that he would probably be having trouble calming down, too. But there was nothing they could do at the moment, but watch.

Legolas watched the scene down in the cavern unfold with horror. It had taken them several days to track the orcs down to this cavern, several days during which one could imagine the horrors Arwen was going through, but neither of them had imagined it to be this bad. He winced, hearing the crack of snapping bone, and had to restrain the human who would have charged into the full camp, had the elf not been there to hold him back.

A few minutes and several more struggles later, the commotion died down. Legolas had gathered from the random snatches of conversation that drifted up towards them that apparently, Arwen had fainted. Once all the orcs were asleep, Legolas whispered his plan to Aragorn.

Elvish Translations 

_Hannon le –_ thank you

_Hir-nîn_ – my lord

_Daro! _– Stop!

_No dhínen! – _Be silent!


	3. Twisted Games

_You deserve nothing at all...  
You knew that life was a game...  
You deserve nothing at all...  
You must endure your own PAIN!  
Life in the dark without a light  
Hollow empty  
Let's get it right  
You deserve nothing at all...  
You knew that life was a game...  
You deserve nothing at all...  
YOU MUST ENDURE YOUR OWN PAIN! _

_--Kittie _

Aragorn and Legolas crept out of the shadows and headed straight for the figure suspended by heavy iron chains. Arwen had a prominent gash on her cheek and numerous welts across her back, not to mention bruising on nearly every visible patch of skin. To top it all, both her right arm and leg seemed broken. And someone had cut her hair. Badly. As for Arwen herself, she was still unconscious.

Aragorn stealthily, or as stealthily as he could, followed Legolas, who was carefully picking his way towards Arwen, making sure not to disturb a single orc. Aragorn resisted the urge to rush headlong towards Arwen, and slay every last one of the cruel beasts.

They were about halfway across the cavern when Legolas tapped his shoulder, and motioned for him to draw his sword, silently, of course. Aragorn threw him a quizzical look. "Just do it," he mouthed.

The pair reached the captive elf maiden without any trouble, and resheathed their weapons. Legolas looked at Aragorn and shrugged. Aragorn, pressed his blade into the keyhole of the lock, when suddenly, an orc leapt out from behind a large rock in the center of the cavern and gave a loud cry, waking all the other orcs. Aragorn instantly switched into combat mode, redrawing his sword. He cursed, realizing that he had walked right into the trap. And he had dragged Legolas in, too.

"Do not kill them!" Grishnak shouted through the din. "I want them alive!" His orcs were not effectively fighting the elf and human, and were getting themselves skewered. Grishnak sighed. Orcs could be so stupid sometimes. He noticed that the human was the same human, still in Ranger attire, that had attacked their camp a few days back. Grishnak remembered being able to deliver a deep cut in his thigh. Chances were that the wound was not fully healed yet. That could be used to his advantage.

Grishnak picked up a blunt club lying in the cavern and swung in low, aiming for the old wound. The human was not able to block his swing, as he was too busy parrying the various blades aiming at his head and upper torso. The wood impacted against flesh with a dull thud, and the man's trouser leg became wet with blood as the sutures keeping his old wound closed were broken by the impact of the club. He gave a small cry of pain, and winced, trying to ignore his injury, but the temporary pause was enough for the clever orc captain.

Grishnak swiftly drew a dagger and held it against the man's throat. "Drop your weapon," he hissed in his captive's ear. The man reluctantly let his grip loosen, and his sword fell to the ground with clatter.

"Stop!" Grishnak bellowed. All motion if the cavern froze. Even the elf was so surprised that even he paused. "Elf, drop your weapon, now," he ordered.

"What would ever compel me to do that?" the elf inquired icily, eyeing the orcs around him warily.

"Maybe, your friend here. If you do not surrender, I will slit his pretty little throat."

The elf risked a glance at Grishnak. Grishnak pressed his blade harder against the human's throat, drawing a thin line of blood and causing him to wince. "No! Do not do it!" Aragorn shouted, struggling against the orc. Grishnak looked at his struggling hostage and whispered in his ear, his voice coldly venomous, "If you do not behave, when I catch the elf, I will kill him. And that pretty she-elf as well." The human instantly stopped moving. Humans were so easy to manipulate.

Grishnak looked back at the elf. The elf gave him a hard stare but finally conceded, dropping his twin knives. Two large brawny orcs seized the elf's arms and a third relieved him of his bow and quiver.

Grishnak smiled. They had finally caught their quarry.

Legolas gave the orc captain a look of sheer hatred and loathing. The orc simply smiled back. Inwardly, Legolas shuddered; there was a cruel intelligence lurking behind the creature's eyes. Outwardly, he continued his icy glare.

"So, Elf, what is your name?" the orc purred.

Legolas did not answer.

"You do not want to tell me, do you?" he inquired softly.

Legolas despised the orc's tone, and proceeded to spit in the dark creature's face. "_Dôl lost lîn!"_

He slowly wiped away the saliva. "So spirited." The orc's expression changed ever so slightly, becoming all the more evil in the prince's eyes, if that was possible. "We'll see what we can do."

Legolas pretended that he had not heard the orc.

"So strong and silent, Elf. I wonder how you will sound once you start screaming…" The orc trailed off.

"_Lasto lalaith-nîn._" Legolas sneered, giving a snicker despite his fear.

The orc snorted softly and turned and strode toward the captive ranger. Legolas's keen Elven hearing could pick up the orc's words.

"So, human, why did you kill a perfectly innocent orc?" he asked. Legolas snorted quietly, earning him a backhanded cuff from one of the orcs holding him. As if there was such thing as an innocent orc.

"How many innocent lives have you taken?" the angry ranger shot back. He looked away for a second, distracted by the two orcs binding his wrists too tightly behind him.

"That is a very good point you have made," he agreed. He paused thoughtfully, and then added, mockingly, "How am I to keep such a clever elf and ranger in line? Any suggestions?"

Aragorn remained silent, not meeting the orc's eyes.

"No? Hmmm…" the orc pretended to mull over the question. Then he answered it. "What if I punish your friend for your misdeeds, will that teach you to be kinder? Think about what I have said. All you will ever do is hurt the ones you care about. You would not be so cruel as to hurt those who care for you, would you?"

"No," Aragorn whispered, but Legolas could hear the doubt in the Man's voice. Legolas knew that without reassurances, the young human would crumble; he was very emotionally fragile right now. Legolas also knew that the human's true name could never be told, so he would have to come up with a nickname. Legolas shouted the first thing that came to mind. "Strider! _Pith dîn saew._ _Ú-lasto hon_." The orcs shrieked at the sound of the beautiful Elven tongue, and Legolas earned himself a punch in the stomach, which caused the air to be forcefully knocked out of his lungs. He doubled over, trying to regain his breath.

"Legolas!" Aragorn shouted. Legolas heard the sounds of a scuffle, and then a body hitting the ground and the ranger's cry of pain.

The two orcs holding him shoved him against the cavern wall and chained his hands over his head with rusty steel manacles that were purposely fastened too tightly. Legolas could feel rough stone against his cheek and tried to fight down rising panic. "You will pay for this, Elf," one of them hissed. This was not going to be good.

Aragorn began struggling wildly when he saw the orc strike friend and managed to escape from the grips of the orcs holding him. He spun, trying not to allow the orcs to grasp his arms again. He felt more than saw an orc backhand him hard across the face, and tasted the coppery tang of blood. Yellow spots danced across his vision, and another blow to his temple did not help. The first thing he saw when his vision cleared again was the ground rushing up of meet him. He cried out as his an orc boot connected with the freshly opened wound in his thigh. Other boots followed the first, and he curled up as best as he could with his hands bound behind him. He began to panic as the repeated blows to his abdomen and chest were preventing him from drawing in enough air. A sharp pain flared from one of his ribs, not fading, assuring him that the bone was at least cracked, if not broken.

"Stop!" the orc captain shouted, his voice cutting through the air. Abruptly, the blows stopped. "Release his hands," the orc ordered. The bonds fall away from his wrists. Aragorn lay there gasping and coughing, trying to regain his breath and his composure.

Grasping a handful of the human's hair, Grishnak dragged him to his feet. "That was very bad of you, was it not?" Grishnak asked, pulling his captive's face closer to his own.

Aragorn refused to respond to the orcs taunts, but he was getting a very bad feeling.

"Now your little blonde friend here will have to be punished."

"No," Aragorn whispered. Nothing that happened was Legolas's fault; had all been his own fault. They could not punish the Elven prince.

"But that was our agreement, was it not?" Grishnak inquired. Without waiting for the human's answer, Grishnak turned toward a large muscular orc. "Give him fifty lashes."

"Yes, sir."

"No! You cannot!" Aragorn protested.

"Oh, but I can. But I can also be reasonable. You deliver the lashes and he only gets twenty-five."

Aragorn knew that Legolas could easily hear their conversation. Aragorn could not hurt his friend, but what else could he do? "Fine," he whispered brokenly.

"What?"

"I will do it," Aragorn repeated, hating himself.

"Very good. You will save your friend considerable pain this way," Grishnak said, emphasizing friend mockingly. He took the whip from the orc and pressed it into the palm of Aragorn's hand. It was a long heavy whip, stained with the blood of many who had been previous victims to its cruel lash. "Remember, for each lash that you do not deliver forcefully enough, your friend with be subjected to five more in its place."

"_Ú-belin cared hen_," Aragorn whispered softly. But not softly enough. Legolas heard him and murmured back, "_Mellon-n­în_, _caro i le boe_."

Another orc came and ripped the prince's tunic open down the back, revealing the flawless skin beneath. Aragorn took a breath and raised his arm back, and brought the lash down on his friend's back. He saw red blood appear on the elf's back, and his muscles clench in pain. Aragorn raised his arm again, and then dropped it, allowing the whip to fall through his limp fingers. He could not do this. He simply could not.

Grishnak strode over. "You disappoint me, Human. You cannot even spare your friend a little pain. Chain him where he can see." Two orcs dragged Aragorn over to a spot near Legolas, and restrained him in the same fashion as they had the elf.

Aragorn closed his eyes, and thought about how he had been unable to help and thus lost his birth parents.

//_"Honey, we must leave now!" Gilraen shouted above the thunder. _

_"But _Nana_, we cannot just leave _Ada_!" a young sobbing Aragorn cried. _

_"Dear, _Ada_ is…" Her voice cracked and she was unable to continue. "El and Ro will find him. We must go, it is not safe here!" _

_A small tear stricken boy turned to look at his father a final time. Unseeing eyes turned toward the sky, out of one was protruding an arrow. Lightning flashed across the night, giving all a clear view of the carnage. Arathorn's blood mingled with the rain, forming a slowly spreading red puddle. _

_Gilraen helped her young son onto a horse and rode off into the night, towards Rivendell and safety._//

Aragorn remembered that night vividly, though he been but a small child. That night, he had lost not only his father, but his mother as well, for Gilraen had been wounded with a poisoned blade, and being so worried about her child, had not gotten treatment soon enough for her own wounds. Aragorn remembered her on her deathbed, so young, and yet so sad.

//_"_Nana!_" Aragorn sobbed. "_Nana_, you cannot leave me, too!" _

_"_Iôn-nin_, I love you very much, but it is my time," she patiently explained. She then added a short linnod in Sindarin "_Onen I-Estel Edain, ú-chebin estel anim._". She smiled sadly at her son. "I just wish I could have seen you grow up…" Then, her eyes closed for the final time, and she was gone."_//

His mother had never called him by his true name, and after hearing his mother's linnod, everyone had simply called him Estel, Hope. He had_ not_ before understood the meaning of his mother's words until Elrond had revealed to him his true lineage. Now he truly understood the burden of being Isildur's heir. When it was needed, his strength failed him, and he always hurt the ones he loved most. If his father hadnot been so concentrated on his son, he never would have been caught off guard. And if his mother hadnot ridden so hard to protect him, she might still have had the strength to fight the poison. He had torn apart his foster family by falling in love with his own sister. And now Legolas was suffering because of him.

He could not bear to watch as his friend was whipped. He closed his eyes and willed the tears not to come. Aragorn could hear each time the lash descended to land with a crack across the prince's back. After about a score of lashes, the elf gasped sharply each time the lash kissed his back; a score more, and he was screaming his throat raw. By the time the orc was finished, the only thing keeping the elf upright were the chains around his wrists.

Grishnak walked over to Aragorn and said, "That should teach you a lesson. Did it?"

"Yes," Aragorn whispered. He could still hear the elf's labored breathing reverberate harshly around the cavern.

"I cannot hear you. I think we are going to have to have another lesson," he threatened.

Suddenly, a pained cry pierced the air. Arwen was awake!

Grishnak smiled coldly. "Maybe with the she-elf this time."

"No!" Aragorn cried, desperate. "I have learned. Please do not hurt them. I beg you!"

"Repeat that my dear human. Louder this time, so that all can hear."

"I have learned. Please do not hurt them."

"No, no, no. That will not do. You are to repeat the whole thing, especially that last part."

Aragorn could see no other way around it, so, feeling wretched, he complied. "I have learned. Please do not hurt them," a pause, then, "I beg you." Aragorn hung his head in shame. He could just imagine Legolas's anger at him for begging an orc. And Arwen; she would never even consider loving him after that. Aragorn could feel hot tears prickle behind his eyes and leak down his cheeks. With his hands bound, he could not wipe then away, and the orcs laughed at his weakness and anguish.

Arwen slowly began to come to. The first thing that registered in her mind was the pained cries that echoed around the halls. The second was her overwhelming agony. Tears of pain began to leak from her eyes. She shifted a little, causing her broken bones to grate against each other and her manacles to cut deeper into her wrists. She heard herself scream and blackness began to eat away the edges of her vision.

When the pain had receded enough for her to perceive anything besides her raw nerves, she heard a familiar voice begging for someone else not to be hurt. So now the orcs had more prisoners. At least two more, for the voice speaking was not the same as the one that she had heard earlier.

Suddenly, she recognized the pleading voice. It was Aragorn! The last time she had seen him had not been under the best of circumstances.

//_Arwen woke up disoriented and in pain. She saw many booted feet and raised her head slightly and looked out. Beyond the clearing, hidden in the trees, she thought she recognized Aragorn's face. But he was in Rivendell! She thought she had been dreaming until he charged into the camp swinging his sword. She saw him hack through the orcs. So great was their surprise that they gave way under the onslaught. Then she noticed that he was alone. Unfortunately the orcs had made the same observation and were closing in on the lone human. _

_She gasped as she saw an orcish blade pierce his thigh and draw blood. Then one of the dark creatures bashed her on the head and she tumbled into oblivion._//

At least now she knew that he had survived the fight, although at the moment, he was hardly in a desirable situation. Through the darkness, she could make out two figures chained to the cavern wall. The one with dark hair, Aragorn, seemed fine at the moment, but the second figure, a blonde, had been stripped to the waist and blood ran freely down his back.

The orc captain, Grishnak, inspected his handiwork and then walked over to where she was chained.

"So elf, you have company now," he taunted. "One of them is an elf, too! Can you imagine that? Two pretty little elves." He smirked.

The blonde was an elf. She could now make out the tips of the being's ears. They were indeed pointed. He was also glowing softly in the way only elves did.

"How disappointing: another silent elf. You were not so silent earlier, were you?"

Arwen could feel her face start to flush with shame. Aragorn and the blonde elf had probably heard her screams and become ensnared in the trap.

"Well, we donot need you here anymore."

Arwen thought he was going to kill right then and there, but instead he just pulled out a set of keys and unlocked her manacles. As soon as she was released, she collapsed, and her broken bones grated against raw nerves, blind hot agony tearing through her consciousness. The last thing she heard before the blackness claimed her was somebody screaming.

Aragorn saw Grishnak talking to Arwen and then heard her scream as she crumpled to the ground like a broken doll. "You promised you would not to hurt them!" he yelled, anger temporarily overcoming caution.

The orc strode back over. "Did I, now?"

"No," Aragorn admitted. The orc had not actually promised anything. "But at least allow me to tend to their injuries. If I do not, they may die, and then what will keep me, as you say, 'in line'?"

The orc raised an eyebrow. "You are indeed correct. We would_ not_ want them to die, would we?" he asked scornfully. "Of course you may tend to their injuries. But how can I be sure that you will not attempt to escape?"

"You know that I would not leave my friends behind. And I give you my word; it is all I can offer."

"Your word indeed," Grishnak sneered. "But I am a gracious host and shall grant your wish. Although it would do you good to remember that I will not hesitate to kill your friends should you break our agreement." He unlocked Aragorn's manacles, shouted something in the Black Tongue and left.

Aragorn winced as the blood rushed back into his fingers. He strode over first to the limp Arwen and assessed her injuries, for while Legolas's injuries were definitely painful they did not seem lethal. Only her broken arm and leg and an extremely severe burn were potentially fatal; the rest of her injuries were just painful. He noticed that one of the orcs had brought a bucket of water and a rag.

Aragorn found two branches that would make suitable splints lying around the cave. He then set her broken bones and tied on the splint with strips ripped from the hem of his tunic, and carefully wiped the area around her burn with another strip from his tunic, intentionally avoiding the provided rag. He noticed it was in the shape of the eye. But Sauron was hiding and Aragorn doubted that he was strong enough to reach this far. As he inspected the inflamed edges of her wound, he risked a glare at the orc captain. He would give a fortune for the opportunity to personally strangle the life out of Grishnak, and he would give more for Mandos to send the orc back, so he could do it all over again. As he cleaned her numerous cuts and welts, he noticed that many of them were already starting to heal, but that a few had been cauterized when there had been no need, probably as entertainment, although those burns were not quite as severe as the first.

He then carried the bucket over to where Legolas was chained. "_Mellon-nîn, goheno nin_. I am sorry," he murmured.

"What for?" Legolas asked, his voice husky his pain.

"Everything. Failing you. Being weak. Not being able to help. Letting them hurt you. Allowing an orc to nearly slit my throat. Getting us captured. Everything."

"_U-moe edhored._ It is not your fault. You did not mean for any of this to happen."

"True," Aragorn admitted, not convinced. Knowing that he would not be able to convince the elf otherwise at the moment, he changed the topic. "Legolas, I need to clean your wounds. It may hurt a little."

Legolas nodded and braced himself.

Aragorn gently wiped the blood away from the elf's back with a strip of his tunic, wincing as he saw the elf tense. He then picked Legolas's tunic off the ground and pressed it against the elf's back to stop the bleeding. He tore the rest of his tunic into strips to bind the makeshift bandage in place.

As soon as he tied off the elf's bandages, an orc came over and gave Aragorn a rough shove, sending him sprawling. Aragorn bit back a cry as the impact jarred his tender ribs. "You done yet?" it growled.

"Almost," Aragorn answered, pushing himself back upright, breathing slowly and deeply in an attempt to quell the pain. In truth, there was nothing left to do, but he needed to come up with an excuse to stay a little longer, especially after saying that he did. Grishnak would probably not be happy to know that he had been lying, and he couldnot bear to see Legolas or Arwen hurt again. As he got up, he felt his head swim little and remembered his own injuries. "I must bind my own wound. Your leader would not be pleased to find out that a prisoner in your care bled to death" Aragorn retorted with more confidence than he felt.

"No he would not," the orc grumbled. He gave Aragorn a final shove and left.

Aragorn inspected the cut in his thigh. It was still bleeding, but the rest of his injuries were almost fully healed. As he removed his undertunic and shredded it to clean and bind the wound, he heard the elf inhale sharply and looked up with alarm.

"What is wrong?"

Legolas simply stared at him, as if him gaze was self-explanatory.

It was. Aragorn looked down at himself and noticed the bruises mottling him torso and winced. "They are simply bruises. I shall be fine," he reassured, not sure whether he attempting to comfort his friend or himself. Eager to change the topic, he quickly asked the question that had been bothering him for some time. "Legolas, why Strider?"

Legolas paused then sighed, grinning slightly. "I honestly do not know. Because you stride?" Strider just seemed to fit the man.

Aragorn looked at him oddly.

"Well, at least it sounds fine!" Legolas retorted defensively. "I could have called you something worse…like Walker…" Legolas trailed off sheepishly.

Aragorn snorted quietly with wry amusement. This unfortunately garnered the attention of Grishnak, who decided that it was time for the human to be restrained again. Aragorn sighed and closed his eyes. Since he was going to be here for quite a while, he might as well try and get some sleep.

Legolas winced as he awoke. Upon suggestion by Aragorn, he had eventually fallen asleep. Luckily, none of the orc knew that elves sleep with their eyes open, or they would not have let him rest. As an orc approached him to unchain and rechain him with his back to the wall, he remembered the dagger he always kept in his boot.

He glanced at Aragorn. The human was still asleep. Escaping would have been easier with his help, but Legolas knew that it was only a matter of time before the orcs did a more thorough search and found his knife. He knew a small cave near here that he could hide. From there, well he would think of something. He really did not wish to leave Aragorn or Arwen behind, but he didnot see any other choice. Staying here certainly would not do any good.

Legolas feigned unconsciousness until he could feel that both his hands were free. Then he, in a single movement, pulled out his dagger and stabbed the orc through the heart and lung simultaneously. The orc was so shocked that he didnot even have time to scream before he toppled over, dead. Legolas quickly sidestepped the carcass and glanced at Arwen. She did not have any chains on. Legolas rushed over to her and woke her up. "_Drego!_" he hissed. She bolted out of the cavern as quickly as she could with her now splinted leg and melted into the forest.

That was when that other orcs noticed their dead companion. Thy surrounded the lone elf, making impossible his escape. "Surrender now and no one gets hurt!" Grishnak bellowed.

Legolas glared and threw his knife at the orc captain. If he was to die, he would take this miserable excuse of a living being down with him.

Unfortunately, another orc slammed a club down between his shoulder blades, spoiling his aim. Legolas's knife only grazed Grishnak's calf as it whizzed by. Legolas on the other hand, was knocked flat and then roughly hauled to his feet and slammed against the wall so violently that he could see bright yellow spots dancing across his vision. He cried out softly as he felt many of his whip wheals split open and warm blood soak the makeshift bandages.

After being chained to the wall again, Grishnak came over. "That was very bad of you, Elf."

Legolas threw him a look of pure venom.

Grishnak punched him in the stomach, stealing his breath. "Search him for more concealed weapons," the orc ordered.

Legolas tried not to flinch and looked straight ahead as he felt the orcs' hands roving all over his clothing. One of them discovered the parchment in his boot and pulled it out, handing it to Grishnak.

"What is this here?" Grishnak asked, uncrumpling the parchment and attempting to decipher his precise Sindarin.

"A letter to my father," Legolas snapped.

"Indeed." Grishnak clearly did not believe him. "Where is the she-elf?"

"Gone," Legolas muttered.

"Well, I hope your friend here can teach you to be a better little elf in the future. Chain the human where the she-elf was," he ordered, before Legolas could object.

Aragorn had been awakened by the commotion and was now struggling with the two orcs sent to restrain him. Legolas cringed as he saw an orc twist the human's arm too far back and heard the pop of his shoulder dislocating. Aragorn cried out and stilled, trying to fight the pain.

The orcs locked the man's wrists and ankles in the rough iron manacles, and then pulled the chains tighter, to account for the Man's greater height, eliciting a pained cry from the human as his dislocated shoulder was further wrenched.

"Stoke the fire," Grishnak ordered. He strode over to where Legolas's knife had dropped and inspected the blade. "Fine craftsmanship, very sharp," he observed.

Legolas could feel chills running down his spine, and they had nothing to do with the weather.

Elladan rode distractedly after his twin, as Elrohir tracked Arwen, Estel and Legolas. They had followed Asfaloth to the unused pass behind Rivendell and made a short side trip to tell their father what they had learned of the whereabouts of their sister, and to leave their horses in Rivendell. Near the pass, they had found not only the tracks of their sister and her horse, but also those of orcs. Scores of orcs. They had then tracked the orcs southward until they reached the western edge of Mirkwood. They had then found the faint tracks of someone following the orc trail, which they assumed to be Aragorn or Legolas. What had really worried Elladan was the blood found in one of the clearings. There had been black orc blood as well as some red human or elf blood. After that, the first set of tracks was joined by a second.

"El, have you noticed how dark the forest has gotten around here?" Elrohir asked his brother, allowing Raniean to track for a while.

Elladan was about to answer when he spotted a figure staggering through the woods. As it neared, he gave a cry of shock. It was Arwen! He raced towards her, just in time, as she collapsed in his arms. "Arwen! What is this evil that has befallen you?" he asked, as he saw her crudely splinted arm and leg and numerous other lacerations and bruises.

"Estel," she murmured desperately. "They have Estel."

"What of Legolas?" Raniean asked, fear in his voice.

"I…I…think they have him too," she answered, before passing out.

"Hurry!" Elladan said, carrying his limp sister in his arms. "We must stop this evil that has our friends."

Grishnak slowly turned the blade in the fire, waiting for it to glow red-hot. "So Ranger, would you like to feel an Elven blade against your own ribs?" the orc taunted, running his finger along the human's side, his nail, or claw rather, lightly breaking the skin. He smirked as he watched his captive try not to squirm under his touch. Legolas tried not to think about what was about to happen.

When Grishnak decided the blade was hot enough, he pulled it out of the flames, and held the glowing blade in front of Legolas's face. Legolas could feel the heat emanating from the heated steel. "Your own blade used against you: how tragic."

Legolas glanced at Aragorn. The human gave him what was probably supposed to be a reassuring smile. Then Grishnak pressed the flat of the blade against the human's ribs. Legolas could smell the sickly scent of burned flesh, and watched with horror as the man's face went from pink to white to an unhealthy shade of green, as he tried not to scream. At last, the pain won out, and his cries echoed around the cavern. After the blade had cooled, Grishnak removed it from the human's side, and inspected the burn that he had made. He stroked it lightly, smiling as the human moaned softly in pain. "Our fun is just beginning," he whispered in his captive's ear.

Legolas's keen hearing picked up their conversation and felt his heart ache for his friend. "Stop," he implored.

"I am afraid that we have just started, my dear Elf," the orc answered. "Would you like to choose what I should use next? Or should I use your knife again?"

Legolas looked up and locked gazes with Aragorn. The human gave him a look of understanding through pain-filled silver eyes. "Do what you must," he murmured softly, so that only Legolas's acute Elven hearing could pick up his words.

Legolas looked back at Grishnak. "I…I…choose…I…I cannot…I cannot do this, please stop, use me instead, anything, just stop," he pleaded, his emotions getting the better of him.

"How touching," Grishnak mocked. "He wants me to stop. What do you say, boys?" he asked, turning to the orcs that had gathered to watch. He was greeted by a chorus of laughter and shouts for more. He turned back to Legolas and said, "I'm afraid that the common opinion does not agree with you, Elf. But I will stop if you tell me what is on this scrap of parchment."

Legolas could feel waves of helplessness wash over him. He had not lied; all that was on the scrap of parchment was a letter to his father. Legolas could think of nothing else to say, so he repeated his earlier statement. "It is a letter to my father."

"Indeed," Grishnak agreed sarcastically. He ran Legolas's Elven blade along Aragorn ribs, drawing a thin line of blood, and eliciting a breathless scream of agony it ran over the burn. Legolas could see the human breathing hard with his jaw clenched as he tried to control his pain and nausea. "I have an experiment," Grishnak informed Legolas. "It took you a full forty lashes before you began screaming. I wonder how many lashes it will take your dear human friend. Would you like to hazard a guess?"

Legolas found that he could not bring himself to meet the orc's eyes. But when the lashes began falling, he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the scene and he could not stop himself from counting the lashes delivered. About halfway through, the whip curled around Aragorn's side, causing him to cry out as the lash bit into his burn.

"Twenty-seven," Grishnak announced. "Carry out the full fifty," he ordered. He then smiled faintly at Legolas. "Looks like you are stronger than your weak human friend here. What ever convinced you to befriend a human?"

"Why does it matter?" Legolas asked bitterly. "You would not have treated him any differently had he been an elf."

"I…simply find it interesting," he replied. For a split second, Legolas thought he saw something flicker in the back of the orc's eyes, but then, it was gone. "What are you staring at, Elf?" Grishnak sneered, backhanding the elf across the face.

Legolas wondered whether if he angered the orc enough, he would forget about Aragorn. It was worth a try. "Your face," he muttered.

"What?"

"I was staring at your face," Legolas repeated quickly, before he lost his nerve.

Grishnak pulled his fist back to punch Legolas, but then stopped himself. "This is what you want, is it not? You want me to forget about your friend. I want you to know something, Elf: I am not who you think."

Legolas waited for the orc to continue, but instead, he just turned around and threw his punch at the human's already bruised abdomen. Aragorn gave a breathless cry of pain as he involuntarily tried to bend over and instead wrenched his injured shoulder. Legolas closed his eyes as he tried to shut out his surroundings, but his ears remained open and receptive to the orcs' taunts and the human's pain.

Elladan and Elrohir and the Mirkwood elves approached the cavern cautiously. Arwen had been drifting in and out of consciousness for the past hour, but while she had been lucid, she had been able to give them directions to the orcs' lair. At the moment though, she was unconscious. Elladan gently set her down on the ground at the edge of the forest and hid her in the bushes, beseeching the plants of the forest to keep her safe.

As he drew closer to the caves, Elladan could hear someone screaming weakly in pain and another person shouting in anger and fear. Quickly dispatching of the orc sentries, they burst into the cavern. Elladan felt his heart catch in his throat at the scene unfolding before him. Aragorn was chained a few metres from the cavern wall, facing Legolas who was chained to the left wall. Aragorn was crying out as a rough wooden club repeatedly impacted against his bloody back and battered ribs. Legolas was shouting for the orcs to stop hurting the human and struggling against his manacles violently, albeit to no avail. Elladan could see blood trickling down his arms from lacerated wrists.

With a cry of rage, Elladan charged into the camp, slaying every orc he laid his eyes upon. He, Elrohir and Raniean made a beeline for the captives, while Trelan led the rest of the Elven warriors, pressing the orcs farther back into the cave. Elrohir pulled out two pins and set to work, picking the locks on Legolas's and then Aragorn's shackles. Raniean and Elladan kept the seething mass of orcs back.

As Trelan pushed the orcs to the far corner of the cave, Elladan and Elrohir turned to their brother. "Estel, are you alright?" Elladan asked worriedly, although, surveying the human's injuries, he knew that Estel was at the moment, not very alright.

"Been better," their little brother ground out, trying very hard to stay upright and willing his breathing to return to normal. This was made difficult though by the fact that every time he attempted to inhale deeply, a sharp spasm of pain shot through his chest. The pain overwhelmed him and collapsed forward onto his knees. Unfortunately, all this did was cause the pain to increase dramatically. He closed his eyes grit his teeth, trying not to retch, as he knew this would only worsen the situation.

The twins quickly helped their brother lie down, which straightened him out and eased his breathing and the pain in his chest a little. In an attempt to lighten the atmosphere, Elrohir managed to jest, "That might be a little bit of an understatement," and gave a dry snort of laughter despite the gravity of the situation.

Aragorn opened his eyes and looked up, the corners of his mouth turned up in the faintest semblance of a grin. "Really?"

For some bizarre reason Elladan doubted he would ever be able to fathom, Aragorn seemed to find nearly anything and everything amusing. "Yes. Estel, I am glad that you are safe now."

"_Hantale_," Aragorn said sincerely, looking at his brothers gratefully. A violent bout of coughing ripped through him and he twisted, trying to turn over.

Elladan pinned Aragorn down by his shoulders. "Do not move, Estel!"

Aragorn attempted to comply but the coughs wracking through his system were simply too much for him to bear. He continued coughing and, in his panic at being unable to draw air into his starved lungs, began struggling weakly against Elladan's grip.

Elrohir quickly placed a drugged handkerchief over Aragorn's mouth and nose.

Elladan slowly let go as the human stopped coughing and struggling and slipped into unconsciousness. Elladan was alarmed to see the human's blood on his hands and flecked across his soft leather jerkin. He and Elrohir gently moved Aragorn onto a spare cloak laid out on the ground. He nodded at Elrohir to check over Legolas.

Elladan bent over Aragorn, looking for more serious injuries and was not happy at what he discovered. Besides bruising, lacerations and abrasions over most of his torso, Estel had managed to acquire a dislocated shoulder, several fracture ribs and at least three fracture in multiple places, a severe burn on his side, and a deep cut in his thigh that had at least been crudely bandaged, saving the man from bleeding to death.

Elrohir quickly returned to his twin's side, not finding any injuries threatening life or limb on the more resilient wood-elf.

"Ro, I am in need of assistance in relocating Estel's shoulder. Will you hold him?"

Elrohir nodded affirmative and grasped the human firmly.

Elladan moved the limb back into its correct location and the joint popped back into place nicely. Elladan winced slightly, glad that the human was unconscious.

"Lord Elrohir, say again how to tell whether sutures are needed," Raniean called.

Elrohir sighed and strode over. He had forgotten that Raniean had not been trained in the healing arts.

Elladan cleaned Aragorn's wounds gently and sutured some of his more serious cuts. He swathed some bandage loosely around his torso, mainly to keep dirt out of the wounds. He knew he could not bind the ribs to splint them, as that would restrict the man's breathing, and hoped that Aragorn would for once stay still.

Aragorn had awoken again, and Elladan and Elrohir were just about finished treating Aragorn and Legolas's injuries, when Raniean brought up the fact that Arwen was still in the forest.

"You left her outside? Alone?" Aragorn asked incredulously.

"Yes, we had no choice," Raniean replied calmly, saving the twins from having to explain and calm their by now extremely irritated brother. "But Elladan and Elrohir will go right now to bring her here, so you can calm down. I am sure she will be fine."

Elladan and Elrohir quickly left to check on their sister, leaving a sputtering Aragorn with the Mirkwood elves. Despite Raniean's reassurances, Elladan was getting a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Elvish Translations 

_Dôl lost lîn – _Your head is empty

_Lasto lalaith-nîn – _hear my laughter

_Pith dîn saew _– His words (are) poison. (the "to be" verb is irregular in Sindarin, and often not used)

_Ú-lasto hon_ – Do not listen to him

_Ú-belin cared hen _– I cannot do this.

_Mellon-n­în – _my friend

_Caro i le boe _– Do what is necessary (lit. do what for you is necessary)

_Nana_ – Mom/Mommy

_Iôn-nin _– My son

_Onen I-Estel Edain, ú-chebin estel anim._ – I gave Hope to the Dúnadain, I have kept no hope for myself.

_Goheno nin – _forgive me

_U-moe edhored – _there if nothing to forgive

_Drego! – _Flee!

_Hantale – _thanks (Quenya) 


	4. Not Again

_I wanted you to know _

_ I love the way you laugh.  
I wanna hold you high and steal your pain away.  
I keep your photograph; _

_ I know it serves me well.  
I wanna hold you high and steal your pain._

'Cause I'm broken when I'm open,  
And I don't feel like I am strong enough…  
'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome,  
And I don't feel right when you're gone away. 

_--Seether _

Arwen stirred and looked around. She appeared to be in the forest near the cave. Elladan must have left her there when they went to rescue Aragorn and that other elf, Legolas, she believed Raniean had said his name was. She stood up and staggered towards the cave. Finally reaching it, she glanced around and saw twin Elven daggers. Picking one up, she entered the cave. She hadnot taken three steps before she felt something hard connect with her skull and all consciousness fled.

Grishnak watched the elf collapse and the knife she had picked up fall with a clatter. Her dark hair fell about her face, obscuring most of her fair features but revealing her two delicately pointed ears.

As he bound her wrists and dragged her back toward the forest, he remembered that he had once been an elf, as well. But he had not been as fair as she, for in a hunting accident, he had been disfigured. And he had been further scarred during his recent transformation. The change had not been as difficult for him as for some others, for ever since he had been an elfling, he had been, as his elders had said, "different," more merciless, darker, crueler. But he had been an elf nonetheless, and that small part of him that was left had been briefly awakened in his conversation with the blonde elf.

He brought his mind back to the present and hefted his prisoner over his shoulder. His master would be pleased with her. He was just about to leave when he spotted the wrathful human sprinting towards him. He quickly secured the elf's wrists to an overhead branch and drew his scimitar to face the human. This was going to be fun.

After his brothers had left, Aragorn had managed to sneak out of the cavern while the rest of the elves had been concentrating on their prince. He had found his sword and jerkin in a loot pile. He had found Grishnak's tracks and followed them towards the forest, careful not to be seen by the fleeing orcs, for he was not yet in any shape to fight. But when he saw Arwen, something inside him snapped.

He charged straight at the orc, ignoring the fresh pain as his healing injuries split open.

He locked blades with the orc, his sheer fury making up for his weakness on account of his recent maltreatment. The two combatants fought; they matched each other, stroke for stroke, one drawing blood each time the other did. Soon, both were dripping blood from numerous cuts.

Then, Aragorn began to tire. He gasped sharply as Grishnak's blade bit deeply into his thigh again. He felt his injured leg buckle and fell to his knees.

Suddenly, Arwen awoke with a cry. Aragorn glanced her way. During his distraction, he more felt the orc disarm him. He turned back to see Grishnak kick his sword away. He then felt the orc's boot connect with his temple and soft snickering by his ear. Before his world spiraled into darkness, a soft whisper escaped from his lips, "_Tye melan_."

"No, no, no…" Arwen whispered. She could not stop the tears of sorrow and shame from rolling down her cheeks. She had been but a few metres away, watching, as an evil orc hurt the man she loved.

"Do not be alarmed; he is not dead…yet," Grishnak informed her, tickling her with the tip of an arrow, lightly drawing blood. "The fun and games are just beginning. It would do no good if he died right now, would it?"

Arwen could not tear her eyes from the Ranger's prone form. She could see his blood, his life, slowly seeping from his many wounds. She found that she could now answer his earlier question of whether or not she loved him: she indeed did. She found that she could not bear to see him like this, and could feel her heart being torn asunder.

Grishnak abruptly changed the subject and demanded that she read the parchment he had pulled from Legolas. She numbly complied, the words not even registering in her mind. In her mind, all she could see was Aragorn's face, the once clear and bright eyes, and all she could wear were whispers of failure.

As other orcs that had survived the slaughter arrived, she did not remove her eyes from the man's bloody form until one of the foul creatures sent her back into unconsciousness.

"_Nárendur!_" Elladan exclaimed. He felt his blood run cold as he spotted Aragorn. The human was lying on the ground, not moving a single muscle. Upon closer inspection, he fount that the dirt beneath the Man had actually become so saturated with blood that it had become mud.

He tried to fight rising panic as approached his brother's limp form. One glance at Elrohir told him that his twin also feared the worst. Elladan checked the human's vitals. The skin under his fingers was pale and clammy. The pulse was present, but very weak and erratic and barely palpable. Breathing was also present, but shallow.

Elladan and Elrohir tried to stop the bleeding, but it seemed to be coming from everywhere. Time was running out, and Elladan knew that they could not bind every wound individually. He and Elrohir ended up binding first Aragorn's entire left leg with strips from their cloaks, then his entire right leg, followed by each of his arms and then his trunk.

Elladan slung his brother over his shoulder and was surprised at how light he had become. "When do you think Estel last ate or drank?" he asked, glancing at Elrohir while running back towards the cavern.

"I know not, though I would hazard at least two days."

"I would say more like three."

"Would you wager on it?" Elrohir shot back.

"Hmm? Did you just ask if I wanted to wager?" Elladan asked disbelievingly.

"Indeed I did."

"Estel has definitely been rubbing off on you, _muindor-nín_," Elladan muttered wryly. A yén ago, they would never have been joking around like this while someone they loved was dying, but since Aragorn had come into their lives, a new, somewhat odd, sense of humor had been introduced. Right now, though, he could only hope that they had come in time to save their little brother.

Legolas sighed, and then winced. His body ached all over, and all that his efforts to get into a comfortable position resulted in was more pain. He thought that he could feel thousands of tiny, but nonetheless sharp, arrows lodging themselves into his back. As his friends continued asking him questions, he found his mind drifting away from the conversation. Though Raniean was doing a professional job cleaning and tending to his wounds, the pain had only ebbed away a little bit, which was still something to be grateful for, of course. However, some parts of his body still felt like they were on fire; like as his back with his new collection of fifty lashes…

"My Prince, did you say that the orc gave you fifty lashes?" Raniean inquired, forgetting that Legolas did not wish to speak.

"Yes," Legolas replied, his voice slightly hoarse with his pain.

To Legolas's surprise, Raniean found this oddly amusing. He wondered idly whether his friend that been taking lessons from Aragorn. Legolas watched as Raniean tried to disguise the laughter that was building up in him with a few fake coughs. Legolas raised an eyebrow, something which, for some reason, had always unnerved his friend.

"Are you sure?"

Legolas shot Raniean a withering glare. Always Raniean the Inquisitive. Legolas wondered why Raniean could not just be silent for once.

"I will admit that I took the orc's word for how many lashes he planned on delivering. I hope you were not expecting me to count?"

"No, of course not," was his friend's hurried reply, and went back to tending Legolas's wounds, giving Legolas a chance to dwell on his own thoughts.

Grishnak had taken his note to his father. Anger welled up in him as this thought came to mind. But, another part of his mind told him that they could have done much worse, which oddly did not make him feel any better. At least Aragorn still lived, and the orcs had not taken his dagger. The dagger was his father's gift to him when he was very young, before he had gone on his first hunt. Given proper care, the Elven blade would stay good and sharp forever.

_// "Now, remember this, young Prince. A knife of any kind is naught but a pretty piece of metal unless it is given proper care. This dagger will pierce through anything now, but if you are reckless, it will be naught but something to weigh you down. This was made by some of the most skilled smiths, and will not fail you when need is at hand. Use it well, Legolas." _

_"Yes, father" was Legolas's reply, and he proceeded to put the dagger into his boot, where it would stay hidden from greedy eyes. // _

Legolas made up his mind to find his dagger as soon as he was free to move around, and return it to it's proper place, where it had been kept for many _yén_.

"Would you like to know why I asked the number of your lashes, Legolas?" Raniean asked suddenly, disrupting Legolas's thoughts. And when Legolas only stared blankly at him, Raniean said: "It seems like the orc's elders did not drill him on mathematics as Thranduil did to you. Your scars number fifty-one!"

Legolas could scarce believe his ears; once in his life, he was utterly speechless. He was forced to focus more on reality when Elladan and Elrohir suddenly burst in carrying a limp form, which as they neared, resolved itself to be Aragorn. Legolas looked at them, alarm evident in his eyes. Though the human was wrapped nearly head to toe by the twin's cloaks, Legolas could see spots of wet blood seeping through the fabric. He scrambled to his feet, and in his haste to see his friend, knocked over the pot of water that Raniean had been using to clean his wounds.

Elladan nodded slightly. "He lives yet."

Aragorn felt consciousness return and immediately regretted it. Every fibre of his being felt like it was on fire. Where was he? Suddenly he remembered. His eyes snapped open. "Arwen!" he gasped, his mouth moving but no sound coming out.

As Elladan gently set him down, Aragorn locked gazes with Legolas.

"He's awake!" the golden-haired elf exclaimed.

"Arwen," Aragorn repeated, his voice audible now, the adrenaline suddenly coursing through his system dulling the pain. "Grishnak has Arwen!" Aragorn's hand clasped Elladan's forearm as his gaze met his brother's. "Elladan, you must find her! I will be fine. Go!"

"_Ú-awarthathom hen_. But Estel, I fear that if you are not immediately tended to, you may…" He trailed off, banishing that train of thought from his mind.

"No, Elladan, if the orc indeed has out sister, you must make with all haste to find them. I will take care of Estel," said Elrohir, looking into his twin's eyes and seeing the anger, pain and helplessness. "My healing skills are as good as yours. Arwen needs your help."

Elladan looked once at Aragorn who had slipped back into unconsciousness and then turned his gaze back to Elrohir. "I will go."

Grishnak grinned at the miserably huddled figure on the ground. "So handsome, so brave, so valiant, so foolish, so dead…" he taunted, smirking. "But, no, he probably lives yet," he mused. His expression darkened a scowl further twisted his features. "Most likely those cursed Elven brats found him."

Arwen looked up, mild surprise penetrating her dazed and grieving mind. _Elven brats?_

"They destroyed everything. But I will have my revenge." He tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her up, eliciting a small cry of pain from her as her injured limb refused to support her weight. "And, you, my dear lady, shall act as my witness, in this settling of scores."

Arwen unconsciously shuddered slightly. This orc was not only intelligent and cruel, he was also completely mad.

Elladan returned to area that they had found Estel and began scanning for any indication of the direction the orcs were traveling. His brow furrowed as he pondered the recent events. This reminded him completely too much of his mother. Yet there was something else familiar about their situation; something he could not quite place. Something at the corner of his mind; if he looked directly at it, it would disappear, but he knew it was there. He found the trail he was looking for and began following it. As he walked, he murmured softly to himself. "Dolemfuin," he muttered. Hearing what he'd said, he stopped walking. "Dolemfuin." He rolled the name on his tongue, but then spat it out. "No, no, this cannot be. He is, he is gone. Banished, by all rights dead by now."

Elladan abruptly turned and began running back. Suddenly, he felt his foot trip on a cleverly camouflaged rope. He crashed to the ground, which, ironically, actually saved him from being pierce by an arrow that whizzed by where he had been standing a moment ago. It imbedded itself in a tree, shaft quivering. Elladan picked himself up and carefully looked around for more traps out of habit, but in his heart he already knew there no others.

He pulled the arrow out of the tree and inspected it. Much to his surprise, the arrowhead had blood, red blood, on it. Tied to the shaft, with a piece of string entwined with a few strands of raven hair, was a dirty scrap of parchment, which he removed. On one side, was neat Sindarin script. Elladan quickly looked it over, reading the word Legolas had intended for his father's eyes only. Elladan frowned slightly and turned the parchment over, revealing scrawled, but clearly legible, common.

So we meet again. I assume you still remember me? I still remember you. Always so perfect, so in control. Not so anymore, are you? Sauron did not corrupt my mind; he merely helped me become what I truly am. Your worst nightmare. And one, I fear, that you shall not be waking up from anytime soon. Revenge is sweet, and my revenge shall be very sweet indeed. By the way, you have a lovely sister.

Elvish Translations 

_Tye melan _– I love you. (Quenya)

_Nárendur! – _Servant of fire! (Quenya curse)

_Muindor-nín _– my brother

_Yén _– often roughly translates as year, although one _yén_ is about 144 of our years

_Ú-awarthathom hen _– We will not abandon her.


End file.
